Women and Girls
by TheEpiclyBoredWriter
Summary: A little repression can go a long way.
1. Chapter 1

_"Don't you trust me?"_

She didn't, at first. She had to admit, never to Claire, only to herself. It would have been stupid to mindlessly trust any adult she'd only just met, especially given the circumstances. But she had been scared. Terrified. Words didn't even begin to describe the sheer horror she had felt when people started eating each other. She'd been so young, all that violence wasn't good for her.

It was Claire who kept her alive…for the most part, at least. It was the woman she scarcely saw fit to trust but she had trusted her anyway because she had no chance on her own at the rate things had gone. But it had been her now close friend that Sherry thought was going to take advantage of their unfortunate situation. She'd been warned about it before. It hardly applied then but she remembered what she had been taught. As the years went on, Sherry couldn't tell if she remembered their first meeting correctly or if she'd imagined it. An amalgamation of her thoughts that made one of her greatest fears… something else.

Hundreds of hours of therapy and pint after pint of blood lost had not been enough to scrub Sherry's thoughts away. It was odd they didn't leave. Odd to her, anyway, though she had some theories as to why. Her time in the facility hadn't all been testing, and she'd received enough of a formal education to consider herself rather smart.

First and foremost, she told no one of how she felt. She would bury it away as deeply as she needed to if it meant nothing had to change. It would be too hard to explain anyway. Trying to explain herself to doctors who, most of the time, saw her as test subject more than a person. Not to mention, Claire would likely be barred from visiting her because of it. Sherry didn't like to think about what would happen to her if she couldn't see Claire anymore.

This worry led to her second theory, which was that the reasons her feelings would not go away, was because she saw Claire too often. Regrettably, Claire was the only person even close to her age Sherry saw regularly. She knew "normal" teens would be figuring out their romantic lives around that time but she had no such luxury. By now she was barely a teen anymore anyway, so perhaps she could grow out of it yet. Until then, she was stuck with Claire who had to become her everything.

Everything.

A friend, a parent, a mentor, and an object of affection. Someone to love and someone to hate.

Some nights she did hate Claire. Sherry hated her because Claire couldn't just let her die. It wasn't exactly that she wanted to stop living, but the constant bloodletting and testing, the isolation, it got to be too much sometimes. Claire had to care too much to save her life, which was rarely a life at all. It was all Claire's fault some days, but on days they saw each other, she'd blame someone else. In person, Claire was easy to forgive.

There was always a sweetness about her. Some gentle heart that kept Sherry subdued. Maybe it was something in her gaze, a warmth, a glimmer of affection, an easy smile. Sherry had tried to be mad at Claire when she grew up, but it never worked. It faded too quickly and as she matured it stopped all together, replaced by something much worse: addiction.

She only knew adults, so she tried to force herself to think like one. She told herself it was a silly, childish feeling, and she'd grow out of it. The doctors told her that often about a number of things. They hadn't been right yet, but it was all she had to go on. She would get over this obsession with Claire and stop resenting whenever she wasn't around. She could get used to the solitude if she tried hard enough. That was important. Claire couldn't, wouldn't, be around forever. She had her own life to deal with and that was crucial to remember.

But every time Claire came around it was too hard to remember. Impossible even.

She always showed up the same way. Even on her bad days Claire would burst through her "bedroom" door with a grin on her face, arms open. It was almost as if they rarely saw one another, which was hardly true at all. At first, Claire had been kept away, but when it was deemed she was not a threat, she essentially had free reign to visit whenever Sherry was wanted.

"Sherry!" She said, pulling the girl's attention from her work, arms outstretched. "Did you miss me?"

And all too easily, Sherry gave in again. She dropped her book onto the bare white desk and sprang up, leaping into Claire's arms like some lonely housewife whose husband was out to war. It was ridiculous, foolish—"Clairebear! I missed you more than anything you know that." She giggled, nuzzling Claire's shoulder with delight.

Normal 18 year olds didn't do this right? Not that she was "normal". Adults behaved differently than this so why didn't she? Why couldn't she?

She had one friend. One friend who was removed from all of this. She liked Leon but… he was part of the same system she was. He worked alongside the people who kept her locked up. The people who used her blood to "save the world". It wasn't really his fault, no more than it was Claire's fault. They were just trying their best to get by as who they were. She couldn't fault them for caring too much, even if she wanted to now and again.

"How's classes been?" She asked, brushing back Sherry's hair once she pulled away. "Haven't been working too hard, right?"

She smiled, rolling her eyes. "I dunno Claire I plan to finish my "college" courses unlike you." She teased.

"Hey, hey, hey. I'll go back… Eventually. As soon as TerraSave decides they'll pay for it that is." She said, wandering into Sherry's room and falling down onto her bed, white pillows, white sheets, just like everything else. Claire was the little spot of red amongst it all. "Once I'm there a little longer they promised me they'd cover the cost… If I want. Maybe."

"You sure about that?" She asked, crawling onto the bed next to Claire. It was a normal routine for them. Sherry needed physical attention or else she'd be in a far worse place than this. It happened without a word. Sherry curled up next to Claire and rested her head on the woman's shoulder. "I bet TerraSave only covers real schools."

"Technical school is real school! It's just not exactly relevant school. See the difference?"

"Yeah. TerraSave probably doesn't have need for on-site mechanics. Do you guys even have company vehicles?"

"As a matter of fact we do. And… Usually if something is wrong with one of them they flag me down if they can't find anyone else. Saves money."

"Doesn't bother you?"

"It means I get to wear jeans to work."

"That's fair. I… think."

"Hey, not like I've had a lot of "real jobs" in my life. Makes them like me. And if they like me, they'll keep me around. Bit of worldly advice for you." She said, knowing full well Sherry didn't actually have a choice about where she worked. They'd talked about it before. Sherry was stuck, more so than anyone else.

"What if I want other people to like me instead?" Sherry asked, peering up at Claire. "You know… Not work… people."

Claire shrugged, pulling her arm around Sherry's back. "Common interests. Being nice. Why? Looking to make more friends?"

Sherry shook her head, backing out of the subject entirely. It just slipped out. It was at least, in its current form, meaningless. What if she messed up? Scared Claire off because she had gotten so messed up. She never acted like anything was wrong, but in her head there was something she was after. She wasn't ready to test how much Claire liked her.

"I guess." She said, trying to change the subject. "Maybe you should teach Leon how to make more friends. He was talking about Ada the other day. Still."

Claire half laughed, drumming her fingers lightly on the girl's back. "Well… you know how it is." She said absently, closing her eyes. "It's easy to get attached to people when you're in situations like that."

"That why we're such good friends?"

"Mhm."

Sherry cringed internally at herself. The part of her that wanted to talk could have strangled her in that moment. "Friends". Claire meant so much more to her than just a "friend". A real connection to the outside world. A person to look up to. Someone who could really explain what it meant to even be a "person". Claire was all of that and so much more. Some days, she was a mess, but in Sherry's eyes she was the perfect mess for her.

She could only lay there in silence, listening to Claire's breathing. Listening to her relax into the bed, into Sherry herself. She was so at ease with everything while she was here. It could be the perfect time to ask, especially because the auburn haired woman was nearly asleep. Probably a long day at work, over socialized, brain overworked, drowned in paper work. It was all possible.

Sherry had two modes. Too extroverted and too introverted and right now they were battling it out, ready to ruin the moment.

"Can I kiss you?"


	2. Chapter 2

Claire opened her eyes, peering over at Sherry now, half confused, half smiling. "What was that?" She asked, watching the blonde shrink away and hide her face.

"Nothing. I didn't say anything." Backing down was easier than taking this any further. Claire hadn't taken it seriously, so she needed a quick escape. "Go to sleep." Smooth…

The older woman adjusted, propping herself up just enough to look down at Sherry. "Well you said _something_ because I heard you. Now c'mon. What was it? I won't be mad." It was increasingly obvious Claire had heard. She wasn't ready to be lectured. Not about this. Anything but this. She tried to keep quiet, but Claire wouldn't let her. "Hey. I know you're awake. Can't ignore me forever."

"I can try!"

"Can you not try?"

Sherry made a noise, stubbornly rolling away to face away from her. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest and curled up, trying to look smaller than she already was. "Forget it. I don't want to talk about it. It was stupid."

"Sherbear… Come on. It wasn't stupid." She said, reaching out to give the girl's arm a reassuring squeeze. "You're just at that age where you're- I don't know. Interested in people?" It was becoming painfully clear that Claire had never talked to anyone about sexual maturity. She was the youngest after all. She never had to worry about explaining this to anyone.

"Interested in… Claire stop. Please? Don't make me beg." Part of her wasn't afraid to beg, but beg for something else. "I should have known better than to say anything."

"Hey, hey, relax. I'm not mad." She paused. "I just think that it would be in your best interest to maybe look for someone… younger?" She explained, trying to get Sherry's attention by leaning over her.

Sherry rolled onto her back against her better judgement. She liked Claire where she was, even if they were, maybe, fighting. "Younger! Where would I find someone like that?" She demanded, wondering if she'd start crying. Of all the tests, all the experiments, Sherry wished most of all they'd someone suppressed her emotions because right now they were the last thing she wanted.

Claire hesitated, realizing her idea was so much easier said than done. Moreover it wasn't as if she herself was even seeing anyone. Talking was easier than doing, even for her. She _could_ be dating but there was no one that even felt wroth it. "Well you're getting out eventually right? I'm sure there's someone special out there?" She tried to smile, but it only came out awkward and forced.

"I told you to just drop it." She said, turning her head away once more.

"But I mean didn't you say the other day we're practically family? So it would be kinda weird t-"

"Claire!" She said sharply, watching the auburn haired woman slink away. "I get it. Okay? Can we stop?"

"Yeah… Yeah I'm sorry." She shook her head trying to wave it all away. Laying back down next to Sherry, she tried to change the subject. "Can I hug you again? It's cold in here." Mostly a lie… Cold was relative. The room's temperature, like everything else in Sherry's life, was controlled.

Eventually, she nodded, scooting back to meet Claire again. Still too stubborn to look at her, she closed her eyes as she felt Claire hug her. "I'm sorry I'm stupid." She mumbled before feeling a kiss placed on the back of her head.

"You aren't stupid. It's hard to be alone. I get it. And… Look I do want you to be happy. Honestly." She began to explain, wondering when Sherry would cut her off again. So far only silence. "I just don't think you know what you want right now, and it would be bad for both of us to jump into something that… _we_ aren't actually ready for." It sounded good in her head. She was almost proud of it until Sherry spoke again.

"Claire?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

"Oh."

For the rest of Claire's visit, they both tried to pretend nothing ever happened. They talked about anything else, even if they didn't want to. Sherry felt nothing but regret for ever speaking up, but she couldn't take it back now. Claire did her beset to move on and she didn't seem angry. Awkward, yes, but she always was. That fact became more obvious as Sherry grew up that Claire wasn't actually as cool as she first thought. Not that it mattered, because she still idolized the woman. She was too warm hearted not to.

Parting that night was harder than it normally was. Their goodbyes felt forced, and Sherry, despite her better judgement, couldn't let go of Claire. She lingered in their embrace, and she wanted to swear that Claire did the same. Whether she did or did not mattered little, because inevitably, she left, same as always.

She had intended to get back to her school work after Claire left. It was only nine, but she was too exhausted with herself to even bother. It didn't matter. No one would care. She had a weeks worth of work at a time so no one would actually even realize she hadn't continued. Right now, nothing felt that important except sleep. At least while she was unconscious, she wouldn't have to deal with herself anymore.

 _"Don't you trust me?"_

The voice burned in her ears. She looked around and saw herself, was herself, as she was then, as she was now, backed against the wall. 12? 18? 30? Random, meaningless numbers. A school uniform that did not fit, that still fit perfectly, that she still owned. There was a woman keeping her closed in, trapped and safe. Claire as she was; Claire as she is now. Both nineteen and not. They were the same, she was the same.

Sherry could smell blood. On herself. On the walls. On Claire. Claire smelled the most like blood and rot.

 _"I don't trust you. No, I do, I trust you_." She said both things at the same time, feeling Claire edge closer. What's to trust? The knife made her nervous. The handle had blood drying on it already. When did this start?

She felt small, was small. The room was dark, it was only them trapped together, one person, close and cold.

She saw herself elsewhere, trying to run. _"Hey hey! It's alright!"_

She was herself again. Claire was not. She felt the wallpaper against her hands, felt Claire's hand against her stomach. The moans of the undead filled her ears. Her own voice. Not Claire's. Claire wasn't speaking, only doing, moving, existing. She was something else. Something dead, something far too alive to account for.

Something soft, something foul. Her hands were above her head, held tightly to the wood paneling. She could squirm if she wanted, would squirm even if she did not. There was a hand at the hem of her shorts, a hand passed the hem of her shorts. She smelled sewage and her stomach hurt. No, no, that wasn't right.

 _"Claire? I'm stuck!"_

She was on her back again. She was bare. She was small and vulnerable. The figure on top of her didn't care. She didn't care herself. She needed to care. She was supposed to run. She knew better than to stay this was her fault she was bad—

Something that sounded like Claire was telling her it wasn't her fault. A warm, maternal voice that did not fit the teeth at her neck. Not enough to damage, just enough to hold. Her stomach didn't hurt anymore. She was dizzy, floating. _"I won't hurt you. I love you_."

She wasn't supposed to like it. She liked it. She loved it. She needed it and she hated herself. She clung to the image, whimpering, begging. A million hands kept her in miserable bliss. She couldn't hear herself anymore. There was nothing now. No smell, no water, no blood and no death.

Just a beep, getting louder.

Sherry pulled her head from the pillow, and everything vanished once more.


	3. Chapter 3

She moved in a daze the next week, haunted by the remnants of her dream. She convinced herself Claire had known about it and decided to stay away because it was easier than confronting it. It was easier. Sherry didn't have it in her to think about it… She was so young. Thought Claire was going to- no, wanted her to- no!

It wasn't as if anyone in the facility spent a lot of time tending to her emotional needs anyway. Rare was it anyone cared how she was feeling other than a generic "fine" or "okay". She had a legal guardian, at least, so she was told. She barely saw him, though she knew who it was who allowed Claire to visit at all… Pass on the burden to someone else, just like her real parents had done. It was the same every time.

It would be the same for Claire too, once she knew.

And she would know. Sherry decided one night when she got word from Claire she was coming to visit again. She had a plan. A terrible, awful plan that was sure to drive Claire away. She couldn't wait any longer. She'd just make it happen now and spare herself the wondering, the waiting. She'd be miserable, she'd break down and beg, and she'd scare Claire off. Then she'd get over it and be a good little… whatever she was supposed to be. Test subject? No, not quite that. She didn't matter, only her blood mattered.

She began to plan, digging out her old school uniform from under her bed. God, it was ridiculous. She was still small but not _that_ small. Sherry could barely even remember why they hadn't just burned the damn thing. Something to do with her not having any personal items from her childhood. She hadn't talked enough to say no at the time, but now she wished it had gotten incinerated. If it had, she wouldn't be awkwardly working her way into a shirt and shorts five sizes too small. And for what? Some miserable dream that reminded her she was strange. Maybe even broken. Just get it over with and be done. Get over Claire.

She'd be here soon, sleepy from work. Claire was always one to please with a habit of working too hard for things that maybe weren't that important. With a bit of luck, maybe this didn't need to end badly after all. A big, big maybe.

When the door opened she moved without thinking. She didn't even _want_ to think about what was going to happen next. Claire stepped in, shut the door, and then she pounced. Sherry was up and clinging to the confused woman before either of them could make sense of what happened. If nothing else, Sherry could pat herself on the back for not crying before Claire showed up. If she had, she'd somehow manage to make herself look even more pitiful.

"How was work?" She asked softly, hands already too eager against Claire. She had to remind herself again and again this was going to make Claire leave. This would hurt in the end but it was necessary. But she was so soft… fingers brushing over the back of her neck, winding loose strands of hair gingerly around her forefinger.

At first, Claire thought it was all some sort of joke, even going so far as to laugh. She lifted her hands to ease Sherry back, but stopped short when she realized there was nowhere but bare skin to place her hands. "Work was fine but uh… whatcha doing?" She asked, smiling crookedly.

"I missed you." She said, trying to entice Claire into taking her. Just pinning her to a wall, exploring… Claire wasn't that aggressive though. Maybe in combat situations but at home, like this, Claire was absolutely passive it seemed. Maybe if she begged. Oh she'd beg.

"I… can see that, yeah." Claire said, another awkward laugh escaping her throat. "Still have that outfit huh?"

"Still have it." Sherry frowned, grabbing Claire's hands to pull them to her sides. They were warm but not soft. Not anymore. In her mind they were soft but Claire herself was rough. It was falling apart so quickly and Claire was still completely oblivious to everything. "I missed you." She said again, peering up at Claire as she began to gnaw on her lower lip.

"I missed you too." She said slowly, looking off to the side. Claire wasn't completely stupid as to what was going on, but damn it she'd pretend. Just because Sherry was "of age" didn't mean she was mentally ready for this. Not that either of them were mentally ready for much. One day at a time, one step at a time, anything quicker and they'd be prone to breaking.

Sherry leaned her head on Claire's chest now, taking a deep breath. She smelled like oil, a scent almost familiar enough to fit her fantasy. With a soft whine, she turned her head just enough to peer up at the other woman, pleading.

"Sherry… come on… Don't you think this is a bad idea?" She began, looking anywhere in the room but directly at the girl clinging to her. "I've known you since you were little and it'd really be bad for you if anything like this happened."

It wasn't a no on Claire's part it seemed, just a no directed at her. That was enough for her. "It's not your job to moralize for me. People have been making my choices for me for years! I don't even get the chance to make a "bad" choice and maybe… maybe I want to for once! Maybe I want to do something stupid because it's exactly what I want right now. Don't act like you didn't do that… Don't pretend it's not normal."

Claire finally managed to look back down at Sherry, feeling the girl's hands slide back up to her neck to keep her looking. She was too tired to fight it, and part of her did think Sherry was right. Yet, that still didn't make all of this right. Of all the terrible things Sherry had been exposed to, she didn't want to be added to the list of them.

"If you're going to tell me no…" she began, voice barely above a whisper now. "I want you to tell me no as a person. Not as some kid you used to know, but as who I am now. Okay?"

It was a lapse in judgement. One she couldn't even blame on alcohol because she hadn't been drinking. Most of the people who understood her were far away by now anyway at best, and at worst, dead. Forming attachments hadn't been easy since… everything. And it wasn't as if she wasn't lonely. Two people could make the same mistake together. That's what she'd tell herself later, she decided. Maybe she'd tell herself that over a few beers, and far away from this room. With a shaky breath, she closed the gap between them and pressed her lips to Sherry's, closing her eyes to block out the unfortunate image the outfit projected.

The image Sherry wanted to project.


End file.
